


all your goodness, beaming through

by TheBizarreHairTrio



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bleeding Crystals, Gen, Kyber Crystals, nadirr counts for both jedi and sith and that's very sexy of her, why is love PAIN
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:21:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26023342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBizarreHairTrio/pseuds/TheBizarreHairTrio
Summary: The bond between Jedi and kyber crystal is one of trust. What happens when you break it?
Relationships: Original Jedi Character(s) & Original Jedi Character(s)
Kudos: 2





	all your goodness, beaming through

**Author's Note:**

> (throws my ocs at you) don't drop them or they'll cry

A faint glow catches her eye, and Nadirr sprints towards it, eager and impatient and wanting to leave these cold caverns before she's trapped. She vaults over a jutting rock and scrambles up the slippery wall, seeking the glow over the ledge, and flips over it, dropping down and nearly plummeting into a rushing river. She stares out across the violent waters at the glowing kyber crystal, hanging from the tip of a low hanging stalactite, and growls in frustration. 

“Are you kidding me?” she shouts at the frozen ceiling, teeth gritted and fists clenched. She slumps, posture still tensed and angry. “I don't have _time for this,”_ she hisses, frustrated as she glances back out at the kyber crystal, beckoning her. She looks down at her feet, at the swift waters of the river, and makes another resentful sound in her throat, turning around to slam her head against the ice, leaving faint indents behind from her horns. 

“Think, Nadirr,” she whispers to herself. “What would Vylin do?” Her eyes slide shut, trying to imagine Vylin, somewhere in these caverns, looking for his own crystal. She groans, pressing her forehead to the ice. “‘Be patient, Nadirr’,” she says mockingly, in an attempted imitation of the Mirialan’s voice. “‘Don't just rush into things.’ Force, I can't believe this…” Another groan escaping, she digs her fingers into the ice and begins to make her way back the way she came from, scrambling up back over the wall and dropping back into the corridor. 

“Find another way,” she whispers to herself, no matter how much she personally rebels against that. “Too dangerous.” She shivers involuntarily, at the thought of being swept away by the river, and dashes down the corridor, looking for another way in as she drags her fingertips over the wall. 

After feeling like she's run in circles, her hand catches in a sudden gap, and she halts, cautiously fitting the rest of her arm in the gap, smirking as it goes through. “Finally,” she whispers, turning on her side to enter the gap, barely wide enough for her to squeeze through. Exiting on the other side, she exclaims in satisfaction, seeing solid footing all the way to under the stalactite. She makes her way carefully across, cautious of the way the ice creaks under her boots, and lightly steps just below the stalactite, reaching up on the tips of her toes and gingerly pinching the crystal between her fingers, plucking it from its resting place with care.

The crystal pulses in her hand, and Nadirr feels the Force _sing_ with it, her very being humming in sync with the essence of the crystal. She laughs at the feeling, the connection, and quickly dashes away, blood singing as she makes her way back to the Temple, where the other younglings and Master Yoda await her.

She's found her crystal.

* * *

Her crystal had served her well, Nadirr knows this. But it rejects her path, and she's _angry,_ hateful at the way it abandons her now, as if it does not approve.

“How dare you,” she snarls, clenching the crystal tight in her fist, and she shoves her hatred, her anger and pain onto it, _demanding_ it bend to her will. The crystal _screams_ out at her, and Nadirr cries out, the skin of her hand searing with pain, as the crystal topples out of her grasp and she's thrown into the wall, her back’s impact against it pushing the breath from her lungs as she screams with the hot, sharp digging pains in her temple, visions _burning_ into her mind—

“Padawan,” murmurs her master, close to her ear, and Nadirr opens her eyes, basking in the peace of the Room of a Thousand Fountains. She glances over at her master, smiling ever so gently at her, and she surges forward, wrapping the Weequay up in her arms, clinging to them as sobs wrack her form.

“ _Master,_ ” she whispers desperately through her tears, burying her face in their robes. Her master hums above her, placing a weathered hand carefully on her head, gently stroking her horns.

“You have done so well,” they tell her softly, the movement of their hand never stopping. “The best you could have.”

She lifts her face, hands still clinging to their robes. “I’m so glad to see you,” she says, voice cracking on the words. “I missed you, Master.”

“The people we love are never gone, my Padawan,” Hiraet tells her, drops their hand to tip her head up, cupping her cheek as they smile. “I am always with you.”

“But you're not _here,”_ she rasps, fingers tightening in their robes, unable to let go. “You _should be here._ It's not fair!”

“It is not our way to reject the state of things, my young Padawan,” they rebuke gently, smoothing a thumb under their eye. “Only to accept, and let go. Holding onto things, rejecting the truth of things… They will only bring pain, and suffering.” 

Freezing in place, Nadirr stares at her master, fingers loosening as she lets go of their robes as if she'd been burned, backing away from their touch and staring at them in horror and anger. “You're trying to trick me,” she accuses, voice shaking over the words.

Hiraet closes their eyes, deeply saddened, but she's too far gone to care, even though she can't suppress the aborted reach for them. “My dearest Padawan,” they say, with only love and pain in their voice. “It is not too late to turn away.”

She shakes her head, lurching back. “How dare you,” she whispers, shaking with anger. “ _How dare you._ ” She ignites her saber, face awash in red plasma, and she stares unflinchingly into the pained face of her master.

“ _Nadirr—_ ” they begin, pleadingly, but she strikes, slashing through him—

She screams, hands pressed hard to her head, blinking away the dark spots across her vision and hissing at the _ache_ of her head, hatefully glaring at the kyber crystal lying innocently on the floor, and summons it to her, clenching it in the hand not pulsing with pain.

“You _dare,_ ” she snarls to it, lips to her fist, and she pours her hatred and rage into the crystal, forces it to bend to her will and _bleed._ She snarls in victory, ignoring the hollowness in her chest and the screaming that erupts from the crystal, pained and betrayed. “You don't get to disobey me anymore.”

* * *

“Please,” she whispers, cradling the crystal in her hands. Tears run rivulets down her face, drip against her skin as she bows her head. “I’m sorry,” Nadirr chokes out, unable to block out the crystal’s screaming, nothing like the comforting, trusting hum constant throughout her years as a jedi. It's accusing, still suffering and betrayed even four years after she bled it with her anger and hate.

“I’m sorry,” she repeats, sobbing, expression crumpled in utter regret and self hatred. “ _I_ _’m sorry._ ” Her back curves as she falls forward, forehead pressed to the ground as she weeps, cradling the tortured crystal to her chest. “What have I done?” She chokes on another sob. “Please. _Please, I’m sorry._ ”

The crystal continues to scream, never acknowledging her pleas, and Nadirr weeps for what she's done.


End file.
